


Buss It

by Derenieh_Maeverin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Interracial Relationship Woes, Kissing, Swearing, Twerking, reader is a black girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derenieh_Maeverin/pseuds/Derenieh_Maeverin
Summary: Kenma doesn't quite know everything about you, but he comes home early and sees something new from you.How will he react?
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Reader
Kudos: 27





	Buss It

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to through some more Black!Reader stuff out there and I really love Kenma, so he's the current target.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3

_ Your honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes _

_ Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating _

_ Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in _

_ Never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating _

_ In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya _

_ If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder _

_ Big D stand for big demeanor _

“Ayyyyye!” You sang and danced around the house as you had been for the last hour or so. Thursday afternoon and you’d called an extra day off work to help prepare for the convention you and Kenma were attending this coming weekend. He was a special guest due to his popularity as a streamer, and you ran a few fan panels and cosplayed to your heart’s content.

Before a con, you always liked to take an extra day off work to clean up the house and do any last minute cosplay repairs or packing. Today, aside from the usual tidying, you have a wig to finish styling and a few buttons to sew on. Not much considering what your “con crunch” was usually like.

You loved to absolutely blast hiphop music while you worked since Kenma wasn’t home and you weren’t at risk of disturbing him or embarrassing yourself with the highly suggestive moves you busted out when you were alone.

As Megan Thee Stallion blared over the speakers, you found yourself bending over the countertop you were supposed to be wiping clean and shaking your ass to the beat. Artists like Megan always made you feel like a badass even though you certainly didn’t carry the ‘bad bitch’ aesthetic. No, you were more like a moderately hip librarian with your curly fro and cardigans or a comfy weeb with your anime hoodies and and hightops. And you couldn’t slick your baby hairs or fit fluffy false lashes under your glasses so the ‘hot girl’ look felt so far out of reach, but that was okay! Because you had the music and the dance.

As Megan’s verse ended, you finally finished the counters and took a moment to pull the wedgie from your shorts out because they always rode up when you were dancing. Actually, shorts just always rode up. Thanks, thick thighs...at least Kenma loved them and the booty that came with.

Not that he’d ever seen you dance like this. Oh no. Kenma knew nothing of that side of you, and you were gonna keep it that way. He’d probably be shocked and scared off, honestly. Four years of quiet, mousy, reserved you is all he knew, and this was far outside that box. Besides, you were more than satisfied with these afternoons home alone where you could pop, lock, and drop it for an audience of zero. 

You finished up in the kitchen and headed into the bedroom to fold laundry and make the bed. Chores always went too fast when you had a soundtrack to work to, and this time was no different. You found yourself stopping to do TikTok dances you’d learned, literally tossing a shirt to the floor when Savage came on.  _ Sassy, Moody, Nasty.  _ Or dipping it low and picking it up slow to Formation in the middle of fluffing sheets.

Just as you’d finished up the bedroom chores, the intro to Buss It by Erica Banks started bumping through your speakers.

“Okaaaaaaay!! I think my butt gettin’ big, butt gettin’ big, butt gettin’ big…” You sang along, waiting for the beat to drop.

And when it did, so did you, dropping into a open-legged squat, popping your ass back and grinding your hips circularly.

“Buss it! Buss it,  _ ahhhh _ , Buss it! Buss it! Is you...fuckin? Two shots, Buss it!” You continued on, placing one hand on your knee while throwing the other up in the air to wave and snap as you looked back at yourself to see that thang thangin’.

Except when you looked back, you saw a pair of dress socks and grey slacks in the doorway. Immediately, your eyes shot up to see Kenma looking surprised in the entry, portable game system forgotten about in his hands. You gasped and stood up, completely ignoring the ache in your knees and called for Alexa to stop the music.

“Kenma! You’re home early. I-I thought you had meetings for a few more hours?” You rushed to say, hoping to just pretend like he didn’t just catch you twerking in the middle of the floor.

“Turned a few into emails and left early. I’ve never seen you dance like that.” Of course he wouldn’t let you avoid this. He was always one to air his grievances immediately instead of letting them fester. You usually admired that about him, but this might be the one exception.

“Oh umm...yeah I usually only do it when you aren’t home...the music, too-”

“Why? Are you embarrassed? I know what kinds of music you listen to, Pudding.” He asked as his expression dropped into one of curiosity and he shuffled further into the room to remove his jacket and loosen his tie.

“I guess...it never came up? And as time went on, it seemed less and less like the me you already knew and loved...I didn’t want to weird you out.” You confessed and sat on the bed you two shared. No sense in hiding now.

“Everything you do and enjoy is part of the real you. The more you share with me, the more I get to love about you, Pudding. You don’t have to hide anything from me...is it one of the cultural things you always worry about like your hair and food?” He walked over to the bed you shared and sat down on the plush comforter, tapping the space next to him for you to join him.

As you took your spot, a flushed creeped onto your face. This conflict wasn’t entirely new for you two, him wanting to know everything about you and you being hesitant to share. It had taken a long time for you to feel comfortable around him when your hair wasn’t done or to cook any of the staple meals you grew up with, but sure enough you’d managed eventually, and now he helped you on wash day and some of Kenma’s favorite dishes were your family’s recipes. Why should this be any different?

Kenma pulled you into his lap, smiling at you and nuzzling your nose, and you looked down at him with flushed cheeks.

“You’re not gonna scare me off just because you have interests I’m unfamiliar with, Pudding. I love you so much, it’d take something super extreme to ever change my mind...honestly I don’t think anything actually ever could.”

He pulled you in by the chin to press a beautifully soft kiss on your lips as you settled in your straddled position on his lap.

“Hey...how do you know what kind of other music I listen to, anyways?”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Sometimes you leave the radio blasting in my car and your bluetooth connects to the radio.”

“Oh…” You bit your lip embarrassedly. “Sorry about that.”

“Again, don’t be sorry. We share the same streaming account too, silly. I can see your playlists. Sometimes I listen to them on longer drives when I miss you and can’t call.” Kenma was so open and confident about how he loved you, and you never felt like you deserved it. You kissed him again, with much more fervor this time, pouring your own feelings into the moment.

“So are we good now? You know you can dance however you want, and I’ll love it, right?”

You nodded happily and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Good.” Kenma’s soft expression darkened as a smirk crept onto his face.

“Then show me your dance now.” He gently nudged you off of him, leaning back and spreading his legs suggestively before calling out.

“Alexa, play Buss it by Erica Banks.”

_ Oh this was gonna be fun. _


End file.
